


sky of summer stars, sunshine in the air

by Daecyan_Shikoba



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Beaches, Derek Hale & Lydia Martin Friendship, Everyone is Part of the Pack, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, Love Confessions, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daecyan_Shikoba/pseuds/Daecyan_Shikoba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"When I was little, I used to try counting the stars."</em>
  <br/>
  <em>"Oh?" Stiles stills, "how'd that work for you?" He teases, and Derek laughs again. Stiles' heart flips. Derek should laugh always, he thinks.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	sky of summer stars, sunshine in the air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xerxies19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerxies19/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for Xerxies. I hope you like it, bro, and that you have an amazing birthday! <3
> 
> Hilariously this started out as one thing and much like everything I write, turned into something else completely. Whoops. For instance, I'd intended to have everyone interacting and instead only two get to say a line or two and the rest are just mentioned hahahaha yeahhh  
> This isn't beta'd...and uh, it was written kind of hastily so I hope you can forgive me for any mistakes I may have overlooked in my quick read through whoops
> 
> Also I couldn't decide between 'sky of summer stars' and 'sunshine in the air' as a title so I used both. They're not taken from the same thing so....

Derek's sitting on the beach, watching the waves, Lydia behind him braiding his hair with some kind of unholy glee Derek might find frightening if he hadn't grown up with a baby sister who gave him puppy eyes until he agreed to being her real life dress up doll. So when Lydia came back from MIT and made it her mission to practice every type of braid she could on Derek's hair, he wasn't going to stop her.

If he's being truthful, Derek doesn't mind one bit.

"When the hell did you pick up surfing, anyway?" Lydia asks as she undoes the braid and starts over again, flicking Derek's shoulder when he turns his head to see her.

"Well," Derek snorts as he turns to face the ocean again, "there wasn't much to do in Beacon Hills after you and Stiles neutralized the nemeton."

Lydia laughs. "So you decided to relocate to the seaside and take up surfing?"

"Why not?"

"I'm just trying to picture Stiles' face when he learns you've become a beach bum with hair that reaches mid-back."

Derek feels his face flush and he hitches his shoulders up a bit. "Why? I don't think he's going to care too much."

Lydia snorts and uses the tip of the braid to whack the side of Derek's face affectionately. "He cares enough that he whines to me about you not having Skype or talking about what your life here. 'I know he knows how to use computers, Lydia! Would it _kill_ him to own a laptop or make a Skype account? Some of us like seeing the faces of the people we're talking to!'" She mimics, and Derek laughs in spite of himself.

"I don't like Skype, it's buggy," Derek grumbles and tilts his face a bit into the sun. "I had an account at one point, but every time I tried video chatting with Cora it would crash."

"I'm not the one you have to mollify," Lydia says and pats Derek's shoulder with the braid. "There, finished."

"Which style is this?"

"Fishtail," Lydia replies and scoots back on the blanket. "Hold still, I want to take a picture of it."

"Okay," Derek agrees easily. He listens as she rifles through her beach bag, to the camera as it whirs to life.

"Do you know when everyone's due back?" Lydia asks as she takes a couple pictures of her work.

Derek shrugs a shoulder. "Stiles said he should be home by the end of next week, and Kira mentioned staying in Sacramento an extra week to attend a convention. I don't know about Scott or Allison, and Erica and Boyd haven't said. Isaac's been back for a week already."

"Hmph," Lydia huffs. "Clearly I'm going to have to arrange a party."

"I'm surprised you didn't already know all of this," he mumbles, almost absently, and she harrumphs.

" _Busy_ ," Lydia mutters.

Derek bobs his head in acquiescence, because Lydia had been busy. She's told him all about it, in fact. Ranted, more like. Blowing off steam, finally releasing all that pent up anxiety she'd never in a million years admit to feeling.

"Well, you have fun setting up the party," Derek tells her after another moment of silence. "The most involved I'll be with that is offering my place."

Lydia lights up. "Really? A beach party would be an amazing way to start the summer."

"Of course," Derek smiles, and doesn't even grumble when Lydia snaps a picture of him.

* * *

"Lydia, why do you keep watching me with that expression? It's freaking me out," Stiles says nervously, clinging to his carryon a little tighter. His dad, who has been watching him with an eerily similar expression snorts. Frankly, he's a little frightened. His dad and Lydia should never, ever have similar expressions. It implies they've teamed up, and _that_ is something that can definitely never happen or Stiles' entire life will end.

That's probably being overly dramatic, but Stiles doesn't care. The idea of his dad and Lydia ganging up on him for something? Stiles wants none of it.

"You'll see, kid," his dad says, laughing.

Stiles huffs and heads towards the baggage claim, not-so-subtly looking around the terminal for a wayward alpha werewolf. Then trying to not show his disappointment when Derek is nowhere to be seen. It's not like Derek promised Stiles he'd be there to pick Stiles up. Hell, Stiles has his dad and Lydia here to pick him up so why would Derek need to be there too?

"Are you pouting?" Lydia asks, bemused. "Missing someone?"

" _No_ ," Stiles mutters sullenly and then shoots her a glare when she snorts in disbelief.

His dad outright laughs and Stiles narrows his eyes at him. His father shakes his head with a fond smile and finds Stiles' bags with such ease Stiles feels instantly jealous. It took him _fifteen minutes_ when he'd gone looking for his bags the last time.

"Come on kiddo, he didn't want to pay for parking," his dad says as he heads towards the exit.

"What," Stiles says faintly, staring after his dad for a moment before Lydia rolls her eyes and grabs his wrist, dragging him to the exit.

"Derek says the parking fees are outrageous, just for picking someone up from the airport," Lydia says with a smug smile, and Stiles peers at her distrustfully.

"Why does this feel like some kind of set up?" He demands.

Lydia laughs and gives him a look. "Stiles, I am not playing matchmaker. You're going to have to stop being a giant baby and ask him out yourself."

"Wha- I- you...I don't know what you're talking about!" Stiles splutters, face flushing. Lydia quirks an eyebrow at him, her smile becoming even more smug and it's kind of concerning that that's actually possible. "I don't!"

"Don't what?" Derek's voice asks, and Stiles flails, nearly tripping and falling on his face, because he hadn't realized they'd already gotten to Derek's SUV.

Stiles catches himself and turns to tell Derek "nothing, nothing at all" but instead his mouth drops open and the only thing he can manage is a weak "hair?" like he can't quite believe that Derek has any, nevermind hair long enough to be _thrown into a messy bun_.

Lydia's smirking, her phone out, and Stiles realizes belatedly that she's taking pictures of _his reaction._ She turns a smug grin to Derek, who's blushing faintly beneath his stubble. "I _told_ you so," she declares.

Derek huffs and shakes his head at her even as his eyes flit over Stiles. "You okay?" He teases, and Stiles makes an outraged noise.

"Is _this_ why you wouldn't do video calls?" Stiles demands as he marches forward to poke Derek in the middle of the chest. "What, afraid I was gonna make fun of the man bun?"

" _Stiles_ ," Derek sighs, exasperated.

"Nu-uh, I'm wounded you'd think I'd make fun of your hair."

"Derek has informed me that he stopped using Skype because it kept crashing when he tried video calling Cora," Lydia says, sounding a little gleeful, and Derek glares at her while Stiles stabs his finger into Derek's sternum, incensed.

"Dude!" He shouts, prodding Derek repeatedly until he grabs Stiles' wrist. "I would have helped you fix that!"

"It's nice to see you too, Stiles," Derek says instead of acknowledging Stiles' justified outrage.

Stiles feels himself melt a little at the fondness in Derek's voice, and the way his eyes scrunch up a little in the corners with his smile. Stiles feels cheated out of this sight just because Derek hates Skype, but it's just incentive to hook Derek up with _some_ way to do video calling. He huffs and pulls his wrist from Derek's grasp to open his arms for a hug.

(With everything Stiles knows about Derek's past, it's incredibly important to him that Derek reach out first. At least until Derek gives him blanket permission for casual touches and hugs. Stiles has been working on that, slowly. It's a ten year plan.)

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls Stiles into a hug, and his dad grumbles fondly about being chopped liver and not anyone's servant as he loads Stiles' luggage into the pack of Derek's SUV. Stiles sighs fondly, and squeezes a bit before pulling away to put his carry on in the back with the rest of his things, hugging his dad briefly.

"Derek's invited us to stay at his house, when we get you settled back at home," his dad murmurs and Stiles frowns in confusion, twisting around to give Derek a look.

"You bought a house?"

"Built a house," Derek answers.

"On the _beach_ ," Lydia adds.

Stiles blinks. "Dude," he says incredulously, "you built a beach house!?"

Derek shrugs with a small smile and opens the driver's door, tossing over his shoulder as he slides in, "so I didn't have to drive to the beach every day just to surf."

"You..." Stiles gapes at him, then scrambles around to the other side so he can slide into the passenger seat before either his father or Lydia can get any ideas about it. "You _surf_? Why didn't you mention? Actually, why didn't you ever mention you were _building a house_?"

"Surprise," Derek replies flatly, though there's a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Stiles lets out a shocked bark of laughter.

"No seriously though!"

Derek laughs fondly. "Seriously. I didn't tell anyone, I wanted to surprise the pack with a nice place to crash and relax."

"Aww! How sweet of you!"

"Oh my god, they're disgusting," Lydia groans and looks to the sheriff. "We didn't think this through. We're going to be stuck in the car with them for an hour and a half, longer if the traffic is bad."

The sheriff grimaces and holds up the portable DVD player he'd slipped into the pocket on the back of the passenger seat. "I told you to bring your headphones."

"You're a genius," Lydia says as she digs them out of her purse.

"Hey!" Stiles shouts, turning in his seat to glare at them both. " _Rude._ "

* * *

Lydia's relaxing in the lounger on the porch when Derek gets back from surfing, scrolling through her phone with an amused expression on her face. Derek puts his board away and comes up onto the porch. She looks up and grins at him, waving her phone.

"I found a new style I'd love to practice sometime," Lydia says and swipes her finger across the screen. "And someone asked me if you were my boyfriend."

Derek furrows his brow at her. "Why?"

"Heteronormativity," Lydia suggests with a roll of her eyes. "But the picture I took of the fishtail I put on Instagram is very popular."

"Congrats," Derek says with his own eye roll as he drops into the rocking chair across from her. "I'm so happy for you."

"Derek," Lydia says with a look, "I'm not Stiles, I'm not going to engage your sarcasm."

"Take all the fun out of the rest of my afternoon, why don't you?" Derek jokes.

Lydia smiles and flicks her fingers at him. "Not hardly. Stiles sent me a text a half hour ago, he and his dad are on their way."

Derek ducks his head, hiding his smile, and Lydia snorts. "So what did you tell random person on the internet?" He deflects.

"That you're emotionally unavailable and I have no time for relationships," she says, quirking her eyebrow at him.

"Ah," Derek flushes and frowns. She points at his face with an expression on her own that says 'that's what I'm talking about right there' and Derek huffs at her.

Lydia shakes her head and returns her attention to her phone. "I'm not going to play matchmaker, Derek."

Derek sends her a flat look, sighing through his nose. "Why would I need a matchmaker?"

"Derek, please," Lydia says dryly. "The two of you are incredibly unsubtle and a little bit nauseating."

"I'm going to go take a shower," Derek mutters, pushing up out of the rocking chair.

"Good, I'll try this new style when your hair dries," Lydia calls after him, wholly absorbed by her phone once again.

* * *

"Everything about Derek is unfair," Stiles whines at Lydia, his head in her lap as she combs her fingers through his hair. Derek and his dad are down at the beach, _surfing_. "Why didn't dad tell me he and Derek are surfing buddies? Why didn't Derek tell me he was my dad's surfing buddy?"

Lydia snorts, using her free hand to turn the page of her book. "How long have you known Derek? Is he the type to share?"

"Yeah, but! We've been friends for years now," Stiles huffs.

"It probably has more to do with how little Derek values himself."

Stiles sits up and twists to look at Lydia sadly. "Yeah..."

"There's a hot tub," Lydia says, throwing Stiles. "On the deck of the master bedroom."

"Okaaaay?"

Lydia gives him a _look_. "Derek's room isn't the master bedroom."

"What? Why?" Stiles asks incredulously.

"I don't know, Stiles. I'm not _psychic_ ," Lydia rolls her eyes. "I think he's giving it to Boyd and Erica, if they decide to stay here."

Stiles groans. " _Christ,_ he's totally unfair! Why is he this way, Lydia? I thought I was over this, but noooo. I'm going to lose my mind this summer."

She snorts and resettles her book in her lap. "You wouldn't if you'd just do something about it."

"What is there to do!? There's nothing to do! He's not..." Stiles flails, gestures helplessly in the direction of the beach. "He's not."

"What, into men? Stiles, that's a shitty excuse. You _know_ he had a boyfriend the other year. For several months, even. The pack thought the guy was going to be a permanent fixture in Derek's life. We were all taking votes on who should approach Derek about sitting Rory down for the 'I'm an alpha werewolf' talk."

Stiles scowls and hunches his shoulders inwards. "I'm _well aware_."

"Then he's not what? Into _you_?" Lydia demands, eyes fierce. "I told you Stiles, I'm not playing matchmaker. In fact, I told Derek the same thing last week. You two need to pull your heads out of your asses and get your shit worked out."

"What are you... No, you know what, never mind," Stiles sighs, shaking his head. "I'm happy just to be Derek's friend. He's...I want Derek to be happy. No matter what."

Lydia sends him a small smile. "I'm pretty sure you're what makes him happy, Stiles."

"I'm pretty sure we're all what makes him happy," Stiles counters.

"Of course, we're his pack," she says with a roll of her eyes, "but that doesn't change the fact that you also bring him a different kind of happiness."

"Sure, if you say so," Stiles mumbles, squinting towards the beach to try and catch a glimpse of Derek and his dad on the waves.

"Look, I can't make you believe me. I wish you weren't so hard on yourself, Stiles. You're great, and maybe if we were both emotionally available I'd be more than willing to go out with you."

Stiles flushes, darts his gaze to her face and then to the floor. "Jeez, a few years too late huh?"

Lydia snorts and kicks him. "There's no way I would've dated you in high school. Our dynamic was unbalanced and gross until we became friends, once you stopped acting like you were entitled to my attention or affection because you 'saw behind my mask'."

"Yeah," Stiles blushes harder and ducks his head. "You're right, I know."

"Plus, Derek."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees. "Derek."

"Stiles," Lydia says softly, and reaches out to squeeze his hand. "He feels the same."

* * *

Derek's sitting on the floor in front of Lydia, his eyes closed, listening to the movie playing on the tv, while Lydia attempts to braid his hair up into a bun. She's irritated that she hasn't gotten it perfect yet, so she's been at it for the last three hours. Derek's not even sure what movie's on now. The sheriff and Stiles are still gone, to pick up Boyd and Erica from Beacon Hills and then dinner.

"Stiles doesn't think you're interested in him," Lydia says out of nowhere, and Derek's eyes snap open to stare at the tv in shock.

"What?"

"Stiles doesn't think you have feelings for him," she repeats slowly.

"What?" Derek says again, slowly pulling away from her hands, his hair falling onto his shoulders, to turn and stare at her. "Why are you telling me this?"

Lydia stares back, looking a little frustrated. "Because you're both my friends and I'm tired of watching you two pine."

"I thought you weren't playing matchmaker?" Derek replies skeptically. He doesn't see the point in denying her claim. He's pretty sure Lydia's known how gone on Stiles Derek is. Pretty sure she knew long before he ever figured it out for himself. Three years ago.

"I'm not," Lydia says, shifts around so she can put her feet on the floor. "I'm just telling my good friend that I'm concerned for my other good friend."

Derek blinks at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You're concerned about Stiles?"

"Unbelievable," she mutters under her breath and then fixes a fierce stare on him. " _Yes_. I thought he'd built up self esteem while at college. It seemed like he had been, and then this? The disbelief that you could have any interest in him? Then his deflections," Lydia huffs and reaches forward to tug Derek back into place, combs his hair out with her fingers and starts the braid over.

"I," Derek starts, then trails off. He's silent for a moment, watching the tv absently as he thinks. "I knew I wasn't being as subtle as I could've been, but I just figured he wasn't ready for a serious relationship, that he needed to focus on his classes."

"Maybe," Lydia concedes as she works, "and maybe he's a little oblivious. Just...ask him out."

"You're certain this isn't you playing matchmaker?"

Lydia tugs gently at his hair. "Derek, if I were playing matchmaker I'd be taking every opportunity to leave you two alone in suggestable situations. Like the other night when we were all in the hot tub? If I was playing matchmaker I would've just left you two alone."

Derek huffs and shuts his eyes, relaxing back against Lydia's legs. "I highly doubt you'd willingly get out of the hot tub before you were ready whether or not you were trying to set us up."

"True," she hums thoughtfully, "but you get my point."

"Yeah. I just don't know why you're being helpful, if you're not playing matchmaker."

"I already told you, I'm tired of watching you two pine."

"Mm," Derek hums and falls silent, listening to the tv and the waves crashing on the beach.

They fall back into a peaceful silence, Lydia occasionally making a frustrated noise. She's holding her hand out next to Derek's face for the hair tie by the time the jeep pulls up to the house and parks. Lydia's taking a picture of her work when the others walk in the front door.

"Oh my god really?" Stiles demands, and Derek opens his eyes to mock-glare at him.

"I can't believe Stiles was telling me the truth!" Erica grouses, scowling at Derek. "How did your hair get so long so fast?"

Derek shrugs and gets up off the floor when Lydia taps his shoulder. "I eat my vegetables," he jokes and goes to Boyd to help carry in their food. "Did you get this from the Thai place I told you about?"

"Of course we did," Stiles grumbles and trails after Derek. "I can't believe you let Lydia do your hair!"

"Why wouldn't I?" Derek asks him in confusion, frowning at him.

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, startled. "I...you...I don't know. I just didn't think you'd let her?"

"Well, I do," Derek shrugs and starts pulling the food containers out of the bags. "Erica, Boyd, you guys can take whatever free room you'd like," he says over his shoulder.

"Huh," Stiles says absently, and goes to pull plates out of the cupboards. "Is it...do you like having your hair played with or?"

"Sure, it feels nice," Derek agrees after a moment. "But, she also wanted to practice some braids she didn't have down. I offered before she could find a way to trick me into it."

"I wouldn't have tricked you into it," Lydia says, narrowing her eyes at him as she joins them in the kitchen. "I would have coerced you."

Derek gestures at her. "My point stands."

"Fair enough," Stiles agrees, pauses, "wait so you _do_ like it when your hair is played with?"

"Yes? Why?"

Stiles' face reddens and he looks away. "No reason," he mumbles, and Derek watches him as he fidgets.

"Hm," Lydia smirks, and Derek narrows his eyes at her. "We should teach you how to braid hair, Stiles."

"What!? Why?"

"Why not? Plus, I'm sure Derek'll be more than willing to let you practice on him," she says.

Derek reels in the sigh - _not playing matchmaker his ass_ \- and watches as Stiles’ blush darkens. "If he wants, sure," Derek says, and preens a little when Stiles looks up at him with a startled, slightly pleased smile.

"Yeah, okay, I don't see why not," he agrees eventually, and Lydia smiles victoriously.

* * *

 Stiles curses, resting his forearms and shoulders on the surfboard as he catches his breath. What a great idea he had, asking Derek to teach him to surf. Not. Stiles is beginning to regret asking. He's  _sore_ and has wiped out every single time he manages to catch a wave. Which isn't very often, either. He hasn't really mastered standing up on the damn board.

But his dad can surf! It should be in his genes or something!

"You okay?" Derek asks, laying on his stomach on his board, paddling over to Stiles and looking so incredibly happy it makes Stiles' chest constrict with emotions Stiles has been trying not to think too hard about.

"Yeah," he pants, "just, fuck man, I didn't think it'd be this hard?"

Derek laughs, carefree, his eyes scrunching up. Stiles' body floods with heat, delight, and he smiles brightly. Derek paddles the rest of the way over to Stiles and taps his board. "Just takes practice, Stiles, now get up on here."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Werewolf," Stiles grumbles without heat. "I'm pretty sure you're good at literally any sport. I mean, Scott got magically amazing at lacrosse! I mean, one day he sucked, then Peter bites him, and the day after that, BAM, suddenly he's the best player aside from Jackson."

"Heightened senses and extra strength are and advantage for most sports," Derek agrees, a smile in the corner of his mouth.

Stiles points a finger at him. "He admits it! Werewolves have an unfair advantage! Ha!"

Derek huffs, a glint in his eyes that makes Stiles a little wary. He opens his mouth to say something else, and Derek swipes his hand across the surface of the water, splashing Stiles' face. Stiles splutters, spitting water out of his mouth and blinking at Derek in disbelief.

"Oh you did not," he growls playfully, and lets himself sink into the water. He darts under his board and reaches out, grabbing Derek's ankle and yanking him sideways into the water with him. Derek shouts something as he goes under, and when he breaches the surface, wiping water off of his face, Stiles is treading water between their boards, half his face submerged.

"Stiles!" Derek yells, but he sounds far from angry. He's trying not to laugh, actually, and it makes the warm ball of mush in Stiles' chest flutter happily.

Stiles grins as he slowly moves away. His shoulder bumps the tip of his board and Derek's eyes narrow, predatory, and Stiles stops trying to be subtle. He dives, swimming as fast as he can. Derek catches his foot not even fifteen seconds later, pulling Stiles back and twisting at the last second so Stiles is trapped against Derek's chest. Stiles can feel Derek's legs kicking easily, lazy, keeping their heads above the water. Derek is a long line of warmth against Stiles' back, much warmer than the water, and Stiles relaxes into Derek's hold without a thought.

"Have you heard from any of the others?" Derek asks, his breath ghosting across Stiles' neck and ear, and Stiles shivers a little.

"Scott said he and Kira'll come up this weekend, and Allison told Lydia she'll be here Monday." Stiles replies, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against Derek's shoulder. "Did you hear form Isaac?"

"Isaac will be here next weekend. He said something about moving in with me," Derek says, and he sounds happy in a hesitant sort of way, like he doesn't quite believe it.

"Good," Stiles says, "that's really good."

Derek hums, and they're quiet for a few moments as they float there. Stiles absently skims his fingers across the water's surface, listening to Derek's soft breathing mixing with the lapping of the waves rocking them. Stiles thinks he could fall asleep like this, it's so peaceful.

"I'm thinking about building a guest cottage," Derek says suddenly. "I own most of this beach."

Stiles snorts, mouth ticking up at the corner. "I figured this was a private beach. Haven't seen anyone else on it."

"Safer that way," Derek agrees. "I think the pack's gonna love being here for full moons."

"Ooooh, moonlight runs and swimming, aw yeah," Stiles sighs. "For sure. Boyd and Erica are probably gonna fuck on the beach though, you know that right?"

Derek laughs, warm air rushing passed Stiles' ear, and Stiles' heart feels like it's doing somersaults. "Oh, I know," Derek says, sounding resigned. "I'm pretty sure they had sex in the hot tub the other night."

"Oh man! Gross, other people use that thing!" Stiles whines, flicking water petulantly. "They're the worst."

"Mm," Derek hums, shifting his hold on Stiles a bit. "I told them if they're going to have hot tub sex, they have to clean it afterwards."

"Did you tell them that before or _after_ the alleged hot tub sex?"

"I told them that the night they got here,' Derek says. Stiles can hear the eye roll.

"Smart man," Stiles tells him, pats Derek's arm.

"Damn, where's a recorder when you need one?" Derek asks teasingly.

Stiles snorts and cups his hands together, gathering water. "You're not funny," he says, then tosses the water into Derek's face, and his consequently but so what he was prepared for that.

Derek splutters a bit, squeezing Stiles tighter. "Oh, it's like that, huh?"

"Yep," Stiles laughs, squirming.

"You're gonna regret that," Derek declares, and before Stiles even gets the chance to try to escape, Derek's lifting him up and tossing him right over his shoulder.

Stiles shrieks, flailing his way back to the surface. He doesn't even know how Derek got the leverage to do that, they're not close enough to shore for their feat to touch the sea floor. "Dude!" Stiles sputters, "so not cool!"

Derek smirks, swimming backwards to their boards that have drifted closer to the shore with the waves. "What're you gonna do about it?" He taunts, and Stiles narrows his eyes at him.

"Oh, it is _on_ ," Stiles shouts, swimming after him. Derek, naturally, is much faster than him and reaches their boards first, grabs the straps in each hand and drags them after him as he swims towards shore. Stiles yells a war cry, propelling himself forwards as fast as he can. When he feels sand beneath his feet, he uses the ocean floor to push himself even further.

Stiles reaches the beach not too long after Derek, and he chases after him, laughing bright and startled when Derek spins, stooping to catch Stiles and lift him into a fireman's carry. Stiles slaps a hand against Derek's shoulder, wheezing and laughing, and Derek wades back into the water until it's up to his thighs. He tosses Stiles out into it before turning and splashing back up onto the beach. He stops briefly to grab their surfboards, one under each arm, and then bolts for the house.

"That's just dirty!" Stiles shouts when he gets his bearings in the water and races back towards the beach. Derek beats him to the house, pausing to lean the boards against the back porch, and disappears through the back door. "Show off!" Stiles calls after him when he gets to the porch, leaning forward, bracing his hands on his knees as he catches his breath.

"You two are ridiculous," Lydia says from the hammock strung up between two nearby trees.

"Thanks," Stiles wheezes, only a little bit sarcastically.

"Hmph," she sniffs and rolls her eyes at him before returning her attention to her book.

Stiles grins and goes into the house after he's caught his breath. "Truce," he calls out.

Derek's laugh echoes down from upstairs and Stiles smiles, doesn't bother with trying to calm his racing heart. Derek'll probably think it's from Stiles running after him, and Stiles is okay with that. He can hear the shower start up, and Stiles makes an outraged noise as he scurries to the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"Don't use up all the hot water, jerk! You always use up all the hot water!"

* * *

 "Lydia's gonna inspect my work when I'm finished, she said," Stiles grumbles, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the patio.

Derek huffs a laugh, turning his CD player on before sitting in front of Stiles. "She'll probably go easier on you than she went on me. You didn't grow up with sisters, so she's probably not really expecting too much."

Stiles snorts and cards his fingers through the ends of Derek's hair, the action both hesitant and affectionate in one. It makes Derek's heart skip several beats, glad Boyd and Erica are at the beach with Lydia and the sheriff. Stiles hums thoughtfully. "I know you part the hair into three sections," he mutters under his breath, and then does just that.

"You alternate crossing the side sections over the center section," Derek supplies when Stiles does nothing further. "Say you start with the right section; when you cross that over the center section  _that_  becomes the new center section, and the old center section becomes the new right section. Then you do the same with the left section."

"Okay, yeah, yeah, I got this," Stiles says, "that YouTube video was literally no help."

Derek laughs and closes his eyes, basking in the feeling of Stiles' fingers in his hair, on his scalp. "Generally they're more helpful if you watch them while actually trying to braid someone's hair, not watching them and then trying to recall all the steps later."

"Smart ass," Stiles huffs, his voice fond, and Derek smiles. 

"Have you just backhandedly complimented my intelligence?" Derek asks, a faux flattered lilt to his voice, "why Stiles, you're too kind!"

"Oh my god you giant dweeb," Stiles laughs, tugging gently on Derek's hair. "You know I'd never! I can't have people thinking I might one day find one of your ideas  _good_  or something."

"Hilarious," Derek snorts and elbows Stiles' leg. "Too late for that, anyway," he mutters, getting lost in the feeling of Stiles' fingers braiding his hair.

Derek is snapped out of his daydream when Stiles pulls at a strand of Derek's hair a little while later, obviously trying to gain his attention. He's not sure how long he was out of it, does know Stiles has re-braided his hair at least once between now and the last time Derek spoke. Derek turns his head a bit to see what Stiles wants, but Stiles is staring incredulously at the CD player.

"What  _is_  this?" He demands.

"They're called Scooter," Derek says, grinning, "they were my mom's favorite band."

"This is so bizarre," Stiles says, "I don't know what to think oh my god. What is he singing? Is...how much is the fish? Seriously?"

"That's actually the name of this song," Derek laughs.

"Oh my god I think I'm in love," Stiles breathes gleefully, "I can't believe you listen to this stuff. Nothing about you screams 'I listen to bizarre dance music', okay."

Derek huffs and reaches back to pinch Stiles' side. "Are you judging my taste in music?"

"No," Stiles yelps, smacking Derek's arm. "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around this. Derek Hale listens to dance music. Actually, I'm trying to wrap my mind around the fact that the last several songs were Pink Floyd and suddenly  _this_ , which means this CD is a mixed CD. Derek Hale made a mixed CD."

"Well it's not like I could play any of my mix tapes," Derek says dryly.

"Holy crap, how old are you?  _Mix tapes_? Really?"

"My mix tapes were originally my dad's, actually," Derek shrugs. "Luckily they were all out in my car."

Stiles goes quiet behind him. "Yeah," he murmurs after a moment. "My mom really loved Simon and Garfunkel," he tells Derek, voice hushed.

Derek hums and nods, takes this bit of knowledge and stores it in the corner of his mind where he keeps everything he's learned about Stiles. He listens to Stiles breathe, the steady thump of his heart, and eventually Stiles starts braiding Derek's hair again. It's silent apart from the music, which has switched to his dad's favorite song by Pink Floyd -  _Hey You -_ and Derek wonders if it would upset Stiles if he made him a CD of Simon and Garfunkel songs. Then he realizes he's thinking about making Stiles a CD and feels his face heat up, vaguely horrified. It's like he's in middle and high school all over again, and Laura would be making  _so_  much fun of him right now.

"I'm probably never going to be very good at this," Stiles mutters a few songs later. "How do you and Lydia make it look so effortless?"

"Practice," Derek says, reaches up a hand to feel along the finished braid. "This one doesn't feel too bad. You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"Suuuure, if you say so," Stiles replies, a little sarcastically.

"I do," Derek assures, turning to smile at him. "You master pretty much everything you decide to learn, Stiles. This won't be any different."

Stiles flushes and looks at Derek through his lashes. "Thanks, I guess. I don't even know why I'm so worried about sucking at braiding hair, what the hell."

Derek laughs and shrugs at him. "Because you're a little weird."

"Oh har har," Stiles laughs, shoving Derek sideways. "You have no room to talk, dude."

"Never said I did," Derek grins and stretches out on the floor. "But I'm a werewolf, I'm allowed to be weird. What's your excuse?"

"Hey! Being a werewolf is no excuse for your weirdness, buddy!"

"Cora will probably agree with you," Derek says, and sends a silent prayer that she and Stiles never discuss Derek and weirdness. Actually he hopes Stiles and Cora never discuss him period, for any reason.

Stiles grins. "Hell yeah she will," he says. "She dropping in for a visit anytime this summer?"

"Probably next month, she's not sure yet," Derek replies.

"Cool," Stiles sighs and stretches out next to Derek. "Isaac'll be ecstatic."

"Oh god, please don't talk about that," Derek groans. "I had to listen to their long distance mush before Isaac spent his last year in England."

"Better than having to listen to them have Skype or phone sex, dude," Stiles points out.

"I hate you," Derek growls, horrified and thankful that he indeed never had to hear that.

* * *

It's three in the morning when Stiles slips out of the house with a blanket and heads down to the beach. With everyone there now, Derek's house was getting a little crowded, and Stiles just wanted a little bit of space to decompress, so there he is setting a blanket out on the sand and staring up at the sky.

He's pretty sure Derek wasn't anticipating for _everyone_ to stay, even if he doesn't seem to mind one bit. There weren't really enough rooms for everyone to get their own, even with Erica and Boyd sharing, Scott and Kira sharing, and Allison and Lydia sharing, so when Isaac got in from England - and after a hostile staring match and silent argument - it was agreed that Isaac would get the room to himself and Stiles would share with Derek. Stiles is also pretty certain _that_ is a conspiracy against him.

So yes, Stiles needed some space.

He's trying to find Sirius when he hears someone trudging through the sand. It's either Derek or Boyd, so he's not too worried. He finally spots the constellation when Derek sits down next to his head.

"You okay?" Derek asks softly, meeting Stiles' eyes for a moment before tilting his head back to look up at the night sky.

"Yeah," Stiles murmurs and shuffles over so Derek has room to lay out next to him if he wants. "Just...needed some fresh air."

"The house is pretty crowded," Derek says, and scoots down so he can stretch out next to Stiles.

Stiles smiles and turns his head towards Derek, staring at the shadows from the moonlight play across Derek's face. "But you love it," he whispers. "That's what matters, dude."

"Yeah, s'nice," he says and smiles up at the sky.

"Is it just me, or do the stars look closer? So close yet so far."

Derek laughs. " _So near you are, sky of summer stars_ ," he recites, and Stiles turns his head back towards the sky.

"I keep forgetting you were an English major," Stiles mutters.

"That a problem?" Derek asks, and when Stiles turns his head again Derek's facing him.

Stiles feels his face heating up, and he shakes his head. "No, nothing wrong with it, I just forget," he says.

"Hm," Derek hums, still staring at Stiles. Stiles fidgets and turns back to staring up at the stars, praying Derek can't see his blush. "When I was little, I used to try counting the stars."

"Oh?" Stiles stills, "how'd that work for you?" He teases, and Derek laughs again. Stiles' heart flips. Derek should laugh always, he thinks.

"Not too well," he says, and shifts on the blanket. "It was hard not getting them all mixed up, because they're so far away."

"Yeah," Stiles smiles, "it is kind of hard to count things when they're far away. Pretty easy to count the same star twice."

"Exactly," Derek murmurs.

Stiles turns his head towards Derek, startling a little at how close he is, lying on his side now. Derek is smiling softly, and Stiles goes a little cross-eyed looking at him,  returning the smile. Derek huffs, his breath puffing against Stiles' face, and Stiles rolls his head back.

"There are some stars much closer I'd like to count, if I'm being honest," Derek says.

"O-oh?"

Derek hums and reaches out, brushes his fingers across the moles on Stiles' face. " _So near you are, sky of summer stars; so near, a long-arm man can pick off stars._ "

The air stutters in Stiles' chest, his skin tingling where Derek's fingers touch. "Derek?"

"I've been reliably informed," he whispers in lieu of answer, "that you don't think I want you."

"I," Stiles stutters, heart fluttering in his chest.

Derek leans into him, slides his hand across Stiles' jaw, whispers, "I'd really like to kiss you."

Stiles turns his face, meeting Derek's gaze. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Derek confirms, and leans in, presses his lips to Stiles'. Stiles lifts a hand, threads his fingers into the soft strands of Derek's hair, brushes it from his face. Derek's tongue swipes across Stiles' bottom lip, and Stiles' mouth opens on a soft gasp.

They kiss for several minutes before finally pulling apart. Derek closes the distance between them, rests his head on Stiles' shoulder and lays his arm across Stiles' stomach. Stiles squirms, frees his arm enough to wrap around Derek's shoulders.

"I didn't...I wouldn't let myself even hope you did," Stiles whispers. "I don't think I could've handled finding out you didn't feel the same."

"I understand," Derek says. "You don't have my senses, so you couldn't hear the uptick of my heart whenever I look at you."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Stiles asks.

"Because you didn't. I thought you knew and just weren't ready, that you wanted to focus on your classes."

Stiles laughs in disbelief. "Oh my god. I mean, I did want to focus on classes, but I also wanted to take you on dates or make out on your couch and fall asleep on you in the middle of a movie because I've been up too long studying."

Derek hums and nuzzles Stiles' neck, nosing along his jaw. "I guess we both dropped the ball, hm?"

"Yeah, we sure did."

"Well, come on, we can go back to the house and you can fall asleep on me while we watch a movie." Derek says after a couple minutes, untangling their limbs and standing up. He holds a hand out for Stiles, and Stiles takes it, lets Derek pull him to his feet before he reaches down for the blanket.

"Can I braid your hair?"

Derek laughs, reaches out and grabs Stiles hand, laces their fingers together. "Yes, if you want. I won't stop you from playing with my hair."

Stiles grins. "Good, because I've kind of been dying to since I first saw you," he says and they start towards the house.

"You're so strange," Derek murmurs fondly, stopping and drawing Stiles in for another kiss.

"Shut up, you love me," Stiles mumbles against Derek's lips, kissing him back.

"Yeah, I do," Derek agrees, pressing another kiss to Stiles' slack mouth before finishing the trek back to the house.

"You," Stiles flails and chases after him. "You!"

"Yes, me," Derek smiles and opens the back door.

Stiles grabs Derek's wrist, smiling shyly at him. "I love you too, you know."

"Yeah," Derek breathes. He pulls Stiles close and turns them, pressing Stiles into the doorjamb, cupping his jaw with both hands. Derek presses their foreheads together, staring into Stiles' eyes as his thumbs sweep softly back and forth against the stubble on Stiles' cheeks. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's shoulders, heart thundering in his ears.

"You gonna kiss me or you gonna stare at me?" He teases a little breathlessly, and Derek huffs fondly before tilting his head and covering Stiles' mouth with his own.

* * *

The next morning Lydia shuffles out of her and Allison's room with a yawn, pausing when she sees Derek and Stiles sleeping on top of each other on the couch. She smiles, pleased, before continuing to the kitchen. She fills the kettle with hot water and puts it on the stove to boil, taking her phone off the charger.

She opens her Instagram and snorts when she sees a few people asking after Derek's availability. Lydia snaps a picture of Stiles and Derek tangled together on the couch and posts it with the tags 'he's taken' and 'sorry ladies and gents'.

Allison walks out of their room, sleep-mussed and so adorable it makes Lydia want to scream. "Mornin'," she yawns, and pauses by the couch. "Huh. 'Bout time."

Lydia snorts and sets her phone down, hopping up onto the counter. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to bring Boyd and Erica in on it," she says, and studies Allison. "Can I braid your hair?"

"Hm? Sure," Allisons shrugs and grabs the bar stool at the island as she passes it, settling it in front of Lydia and sitting down on it. "You gonna post pictures of the finished braid to your Instagram?"

"Maaaaaybe," Lydia says, combing her fingers through Allison's hair.

"Shhhhhh," Stiles whines, his head popping up over the back of the couch. He peers at them blearily, then smiles. "Hey, Lydia, when're you gonna stop being a chicken shit and ask Allison out?"

_~End~_

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Bend low again, night of summer stars._  
>  _So near you are, sky of summer stars,_  
>  _So near, a long-arm man can pick off stars,_  
>  _Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,_  
>  _So near you are, summer stars,_  
>  _So near, strumming, strumming,_  
>  _So lazy and hum-strumming._  
>  _-Carl Sandburg_  
>   
>  Here we go again, here we go again  
> Here we go again  
> Yeah!  
> Sunshine in the air!  
>  _How Much Is The Fish_ by Scooter


End file.
